


Hundert Mann und ein Befehl

by Kotik



Series: Adult Season Three [10]
Category: Star Trek: Enterprise
Genre: Action/Adventure, Alternate Universe, Drama, F/F, Parody
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-04-26
Updated: 2015-04-26
Packaged: 2018-03-25 21:42:35
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,042
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3826084
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kotik/pseuds/Kotik
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Jon and Soval enter the Forge in search of the Syrranites</p>
            </blockquote>





	Hundert Mann und ein Befehl

“This site is called Gateway, where Surak supposedly began his journey into the Forge.”

Jon digested the meaning of Soval’s statement. One word stuck out in the Vulcan’s lessons about Surak.

“You keep saying ‘supposedly’. You don’t believe Surak did the things he said he did?”

He could see that the old Vulcan was weighing his response carefully.

“He brought logic to Vulcan, in an age we call the Time of Awakening, but his writings from that period no longer exist.”

“There must be some record of it,” Jon half-asked, half-stated. The idea that order-obsessed people like the Vulcans would misplace their equivalent of the bible was a rather large stretch of the imagination.

“Over the centuries, his followers made copies of his teachings.”

“Let me guess. With the originals lost, whatever is left is open to interpretation,” John noted with a sardonic smile.

“You find this amusing?”

Soval’s voice was oozing defensiveness. The gray-haired alien was either having a little trouble controlling his emotions, or he just not bothered to hide them in such a remote setting far from any Vulcan who could possibly hear him.

“I find it familiar,” Jon replied dryly. “We should get moving.”

=/\=

Trip was sitting at the head of the table, hosting the morning briefing of four officers. The only time he had been sitting on that chair was during that secret mission of Jon with T’Pol and back then he had been left with too little information to get the job done effectively. That would definitely not happen again, so it was time for brainstorming over the findings of the last few days.

“Thank you doctor,” he said with a nod when the Denobulan had delivered his report on the repeat analysis of the bomb fragments they had salvaged from the embassy. While the doctor left early, leaving just him, Hoshi, Malcolm and T’Pol, he rubbed his eyes as the exhaustion of the last two days came through.

Not that he had a lot to do in terms of playing captain. The travel to Regulus would take five days so they had more than two days of hotfooting it through neutral space still ahead. But with two fleets squaring off, there was a chance he’d find himself in between them again and unlike last time at Paan Mokar, he wanted to be prepared to get involved if necessary, not just making empty threats to do so. That’s why the last two nights had mainly been spent going over each and every tactical simulation in Malcolm’s arsenal.

“Okay, so unless we’re dealing with a 6 months old terrorist that DNA was planted and the captain and the Ambassador are chasing a ghost,” Trip summarized when the door had closed behind Phlox. “Hoshi, any luck getting word to them?”

“The geomagnetic interference is too strong, and we’re moving away from the planet on top of that,” the young officer replied, shaking her head with an apologetic look.

“What do we know about the Syrranites?” he asked with a look to the left side “Malcolm, T’Pol?”

“They are a group of pacifists,” T’Pol explained. “They have been vocal in their criticism of the current government for many years, claiming that the High Command is straying from the true teachings of Surak. When Administrator V’Las came to power three years ago, they were forced into hiding.”

Trip decided to throw out a wild theory. “Could the High Command have framed them deliberately to silence them?”

“That would imply they have bombed the embassy themselves, or are at least complicit,” Malcolm analyzed. “I think we are missing at least one piece of the puzzle. I’d say we are on to something if we can construct a chain of decisions.”

“How about that?” Trip said. “We know the Vulcans abducted Hoshi to get T’Pol. Now putting aside that they have tried to remove her before, I think there’s a different reason this time. T’Pol, you said you haven’t heard from your mother for almost two years?”

The Vulcan nodded and Trip continued. “When Hoshi broke into the VHC systems, the two of you found that she was sacked shortly after you got a last message from her, and she’s still listed as alive. What if she _is_ a Syrranite and went into hiding, too?”

Sinlence followed as everyone pondered the pros and cons of his theory. Malcolm made a short hand gesture and Trip could almost see the proverbial light bulb over Malcolm’s head.

“If she went into hiding, she would have left a hint of where to find her for T’Pol in some place. Get her back home and follow her as she finds her mum and the group with it; oldest trick in the book.”

“But did they really need to bomb the embassy for that?” Hoshi asked doubtfully. “Wouldn’t they have framed them for mind-melding or something? Why get us involved? I don’t want to toot our own horn, but so far we’ve been nothing but trouble for the High Command.”

Everyone chuckled about Hoshi’s remark. Even T’Pol had lifted an eyebrow in amusement.

“Whoever this V’Las is, he isn’t someone, who strikes me as overly logical,” Malcolm noted. “I’ve revisited the bit of security recording we have salvaged. All the time you can see humans come in, but not a single Vulcan, except for that hooded figure with the bomb. All the while a whole host of Vulcans leave. I think there were told to leave and the bombing was retaliation for the failed V’Shar mission.

“And that’s where we come in. They knew that Earth could realistically send only one ship – us. It was a last ditch effort to get T’Pol back to Vulcan, no doubt. That it cost over forty lives; well it seems they don’t deem it too high a price.”

“But that does not explain the connection to the attack on Andoria,” Trip reminded him. “How does that fit in?”

“I may explain this,” T’Pol and the other three officers looked at her. “We were so far looking for a linear chain of events, but the plan to attack Andoria may well be the start of that chain. Although Administrator V’Las has de-facto dictatorial power, a decision can be overturned if all other Ministers oppose it.”

“So he actually had to get rid of the Syrranites first,” Malcolm realized and T’Pol nodded.

“Our clan has one Minister in the High Command – Minister Kuvak. He is no Syrranite, but he has always been cautiously doubtful about the militant tendencies of the administrator’s decisions in recent years. A vocal group of pacifists would increase or at least support his doubts. Exposing them as a dangerous threat to Vulcan would be an effective way to bring a doubtful Minister back in line.”

“But that’s just one Minister,” Trip reminded her.

“An unprovoked attack on Andoria is a departure from the teachings of Surak, even from the version perpetuated by the High Command. The administrator would face strong public dissent if just one member of the High Command opposed the decision.”

“That sounds like quite a long-winded way to keep a single minister in line,” Malcolm said. “Wouldn’t it be easier to have him sacked from the High Command and replaced with a less troublesome yes-man?”

T’Pol shook her head.

“Minister Kuvak is a man of integrity and had a prominent role in negotiating the Paan Mokar accords. It would be hard to fabricate charges against him and even in that case the High Command would face severe public dissent.”

“You make it sound like the political situation is not exactly stable on Vulcan,” Trip noted. ’Severe public dissent’ sounded quite a bit like the Vulcan version of ‘we are not far from a staging a revolution’.

“The unmasking of P’Jem as a listening post and its subsequent destruction has caused severe upheaval among civilians,” T’Pol said. “My mother told me as much in the last communication I received from her. She was never particularly expressive, especially in writing, but in hindsight I can sense an undercurrent of dissent in her message.”

Trip thought for a while, reading the notes he had made on his PADD.

“Okay, let me summarize,” he said, looking down at the device. “The High Command plans a strike on Andoria. They plant false signatures at Paan Mokar to lure parts of the Andorian defense fleet away from Regulus. But to push the decision through they need to bring some ministers in line. To do that they decide to frame the most vocal opposition – the Syrranites. Everyone agree so far?”

All three officers answered affirmative.

“First they have to find them though, and going by the theory that T’Pol’s mom is a Syrranite, they try to frame and repatriate T’Pol for which they abduct Hoshi to get the dirt on her. Once T’Pol is back they keep tabs on her, hoping she’ll lead them to her mother and the Syrranites.”

Again all three agreed.

“When the abduction failed and they lost seventeen of their agents, they plan to take revenge and bomb the Embassy and plant evidence that points to a high-ranking member of the Syrranites. As a side-effect they hope to get a last chance to get hold of T’Pol.”

“I think that’s as good a theory we’ll ever have,” Malcolm said.

Trip nodded. “Okay, then that’s what we’ll go by. Malcolm, I want you to start a tactical analysis. We haven’t got much to present the Andorians. Every bit we can find could be helpful.”

Malcolm nodded and Trip looked at Hoshi, who seemed to want to say something as well if her hand signal was anything to go by.

“Hoshi, one moment then you can say your bit,” he said before addressing the ship’s science officer. “T’Pol we should still have the signature of Shran’s ship. I’d like you to work with Hoshi on increasing our sensor resolution. I’d rather deal with Shran than any Andorian we’ve never met before.”

She acknowledged his command.

“Hoshi, you wanted to add something?”

“Not to this topic, no,” she said. “I know we’ve agreed not to speak about private things on duty time, but I would like to make an exception.”

“Everyone agreed?”

His question got the nod from Malcolm and T’Pol. “Ok, what is it, hon?”

“Trip, I know we’ve all been a bit under stress. We’ve all been busy the last three days and I can see that T’Pol is completely tied up in knots for reasons we all know.”

The Vulcan tried to protest, but Hoshi stopped her predictable denial.

“T’Pol, meditation only gets you so far,” Hoshi pointed out and turned to Trip. “Can you give us a two hour break, T’Pol and me?”

Trip felt a slight blush of shame. In his obsession to do a better job at being the captain this time, he had completely neglected T’Pol’s biological needs, subconsciously relying on Hoshi and Malcolm to help out.

“Take all the time you need,” he said, slightly abashed and with an apologetic look at his better half.

“And if I may add,” Hoshi continued. “You and Malcolm could unwind a bit as well, even if you don’t need it for biological reasons. I’d suggest the two of you drop by in Malcolm’s and my quarters at twenty-hundred.”

He and Malcolm exchanged a bemused look, but Malcolm just shrugged with a half-smile.

“You heard what the lady said – twenty-hundred. Heck if I think about it; it’s been a while since my bottom has gotten a real good seeing-to.”

Trip shook his head. “I love it when Hoshi goes all morale officer on us.”

=/\=

Jon was still breathing hard. Even night time temperatures were scorching in this damn place and the higher gravity didn’t help either. It felt like his boots were made of concrete. The last thing he had needed was being chased up a dune by what looked like an oversize saber-toothed bear.

He started to believe that just about everyone and everything on Vulcan was stubborn as a mule at saddle time. After failing to help itself to a midnight snack, the damn beast could be seen pacing at the foot of the dune. The bright light of Vulcan’s moon T’Kuth reflected in its eyes.

“How long till it starts losing interest in us,” he asked with a side-glance at Soval. Despite his age the Vulcan had been quite agile and didn’t look the least bit affected by the sprint up the dune.

“Days, at least,” the Ambassador explained dryly. “They are very persistent creatures. When I was a child, I had one as a pet.”

Jon looked at the Vulcan in disbelief. “You had one of _these_?”

“The domesticated variant is smaller… slightly. They are given to children to teach them responsibility.”

The captain just shook his head. Sometimes Vulcans really took the cake. What was wrong with - say - a bunny or whatever was the Vulcan equivalent?

“I believe you have a pet as well,” Soval reminded him.

“Porthos doesn’t eat me if I’m late refilling his food bowl,” John noted.

“A Vulcan child would never be late feeding its _Sehlat_.”

“Imagine that,” John said sarcastically and shook his head again.

=/\=

Hoshi pulled the blue undershirt over her head and her breasts bounced free. She glanced down at her chest. Even more than two weeks after the surgery it felt still great seeing that there actually _was_ something substantial to bounce free. Since this would be all about T’Pol, she wouldn’t have had to undress actually, but since the Vulcan had to, they had gone to her quarters and the temperature was cranked up to the Vulcan’s comfort level.

Pushing her underpants down, she looked over at T’Pol. The Vulcan was already stark naked and was setting up the folding biobed they had borrowed from sickbay. She had never seen T’Pol fidget, making it clear that meditation had not been entirely able to offset the effects of three days of sexual deprivation.

Hoshi wasn’t one who was too comfortable with going long periods without sex, but she didn’t want to imagine what it would be like actually _needing_ it every day. As much as she liked doing it with another woman, and with T’Pol in particular, she knew she would gladly give up on it when T’Pol’s biological distress was over in a few months time. T’Pol was good at hiding it, but Hoshi knew how humiliating that perpetual state of horniness was for her Vulcan friend.

She helped T’Pol fixing the folding biobed and covered the surface with large towels. Upon her indication, T’Pol laid down on her stomach.

“Close your eyes and enjoy it,” Hoshi said and kissed the Vulcan on the cheek.

Rubbing some massage oil between her palms, she started to massage T’Pol’s shoulders with gentle strokes.

=/\=

Soval kept his glance on the _Sehlat_ still pacing at the foot of the dune. The human next to him had succumbed to his exhaustion, his head resting on his backpack.

Since the predator seemed patient enough to wait for another chance to devour them, it gave the Vulcan time to reflect on the tumultuous last days.

It was still a source of great upset that the High Command had misused the Vulcan embassy to spy on the humans. But since the incident at P’Jem he should have foreseen such a deception. It would have been easy to blame the incident on the humans, after all it was one of theirs who had savagely killed seventeen Vulcans, who were just following their orders.

However, even the human’s savagery was caused by a Vulcan, albeit a very misguided one. It pained him that, technically, he had to violate the young Lieutenant, too. Just eradicating the dark katra in the human’s mind would not have sufficed to save him as the sheer savagery of his former missions made the assault on the Vulcan embassy look positively tame.

The man would have been overcome by grief and disgust about his actions while under the influence of the planted second personality. Therefore it had been imperative to plant watered-down memories in the human’s mind. The Gorn that he had brutally disemboweled in a fit of unspeakable rage several years ago was merely the victim of a phaser blast now in Lieutenant Reed’s mind.

The humans would perhaps even see what he had done as a good deed, but no matter how positive the outcome was for Mr. Reed, the telepathic techniques he had used were basically the same that the traitor Paror had used to force the dark katra upon the human’s mind; even more so as it had required access to his patient’s most intimate memories.

From this access he knew that Lieutenant Reed, in fact not only the young Lieutenant, had been intimate with his niece T’Pol, and that not all of her partners had been men.

He had never known that T’Pol was currently in the throes of the bonding fever. Having seen some of the techniques she had used were proof that his deceased brother’s daughter was quite resourceful in having sufficiently frequent intimate contact without technically mating in the Vulcan sense. According to current scientific doctrine mating was defined as the insemination of the female through vaginal penetration by a male, everything else was technically the same unseemly touch as shaking hands. Just another reminder how detached from reality his species had become.

At first he had been deeply unsettled by T’Pol’s promiscuity, but apparently it had no negative influence on the relationship between T’Pol and Commander Tucker as the few days on the human vessel had convinced him that T’Pol and the human engineer were true soul mates. In fact, if his observation would prove true, they might even be in a very early stage of bonding.

It was nearly unheard of that two mates would bond without the intervention of a priest, let alone if one of them was a human and both mates had varying intimate partners. In fact a bond should prevent any desires of other partners. But who could reliably predict the attributes of a bond between a human and a Vulcan?

He had come to accept T’Pol’s decision to receive differing intimate partners as a highly unusual but logical decision. Were sating the abundant intimate desire of his young niece left to Commander Tucker it could very well damage their intimate life indefinitely. Thinking back how physically taxing the intimately tumultuous year of seclusion with T’Sara had been, he doubted a human male, even a healthy and fit one, would easily withstand that.

This one year had certainly nearly damaged his intimate life. The nearly perpetual needs of his deceased wife during the time of her bonding fever in their year of seclusion had necessitated one thousand and thirty-seven mating acts in one year. This had trivialized the activity so thoroughly that it had taken years of abstinence for him to rediscover any desire to mate outside his _pon-farr_.

He had pondered for a while to discuss the issue with T’Pol, but even though he was tasked with ensuring her well-being after the death of his brother, it was not his business. She was an adult female approaching child bearing age and as long as there were no signs of her being negatively affected, she would have to seek her own path in life. Her conservative mother T’Les would most likely not agree with this sentiment, which was why he did not plan to discuss it with her either.

A screeching Sehlat call shook him out of his quiet contemplation and woke up the human next to him. The shrill sound had not come from the stalking beast at the foot of the hill, in fact the animal that had chased them up here was fleeing from the scene.

He squinted his eyes, trying to make out any details in the pale moon light.

“The path is safe again,” an unknown voice announced in Vulcan and Soval could finally find the silhouette of a Vulcan at the foot of the dune.

He indicated the human Captain to follow him.

=/\=

Hoshi smiled as she gently helped T’Pol turn around. Having finished the backside of the Vulcan it was now time to up the ante on her friend’s spectacular front.

T’Pol’s face was had a massive green hue, her nipples were rock-hard and bronze-ish colored. Her lower region was sopping wet from the prolonged stimulation of the erotic massage. Hoshi had meant this to be about the Vulcan’s pleasure only, but she could sense a drop of her own juices run down her thigh. Touching and caressing the smooth skin of her friend had left her aroused as well.

From experience she knew that the prolonged abstinence, and for T’Pol’s current condition two days had been a very long abstinence, in addition to the prolonged build-up to final relief would most likely lead to a very explosive orgasm and probably a completely wrecked vision for about an hour.

Enjoying the silken smoothness of her friend’s skin Hoshi began to oil up and knead T’Pol’s left breast, circling her thumb around the erect nipple. The Vulcan, barely capable of coherent thought just whimpered and moaned in lust and desire.

=/\=

“That’s quite a trick,” Jon said as he scrambled down the dune. He had realized that the unknown Vulcan must have imitated the _Sehlat_ calls to chase off the predator.

“You’re human,” the stranger said and the captain had to force himself to swallow a sarcastic remark about the Vulcan propensity for stating the obvious.

“Jonathan Archer,” he introduced himself instead.

“Travelling with a Vulcan.”

 _Jeez, how did you work that out?_ Jon thought, the sarcasm getting the better of him.

“Soval,” his companion followed his lead.

“Curious,” the other Vulcan said vaguely.

“May we ask _your_ name?” the captain inquired, not really interested in trading knock-kcock jokes in a place that until moments ago had been the hunting ground of a saber-toothed bear.

“Arev.”

“That means ‘desert wind’,” Soval explained the curt introduction of their grumpy savior.

“Does it?” the Vulcan asked back dryly. “Why are you here?”

“We could ask you the same question,” Jon pointed out. He wasn’t yet willing to trust a completely unknown Vulcan, who’s clothing looked like its last laundry time had been in the previous century.

“I follow the path of Surak in meditation and study,” the Vulcan named Arev replied. “And you?”

Well, he had always thought Soval was the very definition of a controlled Vulcan, until he had seen him after curing Malcolm Reed. But this Arev make a rock look positively emotional.

“I’m on a pilgrimage to study Surak and logic. Soval is my teacher.”

He knew his excuse was a particularly lame one when he saw Soval’s almost imperceptible eye-roll. By the look of things the other Vulcan didn’t even deem it worthy of comment.

“I welcome you to walk with me,” Arev told Soval before Jon felt the man’s unreadable glance on himself. “But this is no place for your kind. Turn back.”

No matter how long that guy had been studying Surak, he had obviously not yet come to the chapter that spoke against xenophobia, Jon thought sarcastically.

“It it’s all the same, I’ll walk with you, too,” he invited himself to the party and the three of them started to walk.

“This desert is called the Forge for a reason,” the Vulcan tried to scare him away one last time. “It will test you and it will destroy you.”

“I’ve seen a few deserts in my time,” Jon replied defiantly and fell into step next to Soval.

The ambassador gave nothing away, but somehow Jon couldn’t shake the feeling that he’d soon learn why Trip hated deserts so much.

=/\=

Who would have thought that T’Pol was multi-orgasmic, Hoshi thought and watched the spectacle in a mix of arousal and fascination. She was licking T’Pol’s nipples while rubbing the Vulcan’s pleasure nub with her thumb. Instead of letting go after the first orgasm she had continued and her friend was currently shivering and wailing as she came crashing down after the third climax in rapid succession.

It was certainly a trick she would have to tell Trip about, the young linguist thought and finally let go of the ship’s science officer.

T’Pol was lying on her back, completely spent, gasping for air, which was amazing, considering that the ship’s atmosphere was set to Earth sea level standard, which was much more than what T’Pol’s body needed. She went to the head of the bed and waved her hand over T’Pol’s wide-open eyes without a reaction. The explosive climaxes had completely blacked out the Vulcan’s vision.

Hoshi doubted that such a massive neurological overload would wear off in the seventy minutes that were left of the two hour break that Trip had granted them. Looking at the Vulcan’s exhaustion, she decided that a bit of sleep would serve her well. Since T’Pol had spent the last two nights trying to wrestle her urges into submission by meditation, she was probably knackered beyond belief anyway.

“I require assistance with the shower,” T’Pol said and sat up carefully. Hoshi helped her stand up and supported her friend as she was quite unsteady on her feet after three howling orgasms.

The young coms officers stood still while the Vulcan let her palm glide over her naked body and sniffed the air.

“Since you are already undressed and judging by your pheromone emission, it would perhaps be prudent if you accompanied me to the shower so I can return the favor.”

“When you put it that romantically,” Hoshi said with a giggle and carefully guided her friend to the bathroom.

=/\=

He started to sympathize with Trip’s aversion for desert hikes by the minute. As if the last three days hadn’t been hard enough, he had to run yet again. This time it wasn’t a saber-toothed bear chasing them but some sort of sand and dust avalanche that Soval had called “a sandfire”.

That was before he had run off like a scalded cat and despite the fact that Soval was old enough to have had a pet Triceratops in his youth, Jon could hardly follow, struggling for oxygen in the thin atmosphere. Arev was already ahead of them and called out to direct them to a nearby cave.

With a last gasp effort Jon jumped into it crashing down on the cold rocky floor while the two Vulcans closed the entrance with rocks. Once they had done that, Jon noticed Arev's look at the medallion hanging around the neck of Soval. They had found it in T'Les' house, which they had visited before venturing into the forge. He had first been uncomfortable with breaking into someone's house, until Soval had disclosed that she was his sister-in-law, even if he cumbersomely called her 'she who is my deceased brother's wife'.

“I know this,” Arev said, “Where did you get this symbol?”

“It belongs to my deceased brother's wife.”

John wondered why Soval insisted on using such a long term consistently.

“T'Les,” the other Vulcan said calmly.

“Have you seen her? Is she safe?” Soval asked, and to Jon the Ambassador's questioning seemed almost frantic in comparison to his normally controlled character.

“You're a Syrranite,” the captain realized and voiced his suspicion, but the Vulcan turned to Soval first.

“The brother of V'Nur serves as Ambassador on the human world.”

Soval gave an almost imperceptible nod and Jon wondered why Arev had almost made it sound like an accusation. But he couldn't finish that thought as he was suddenly on the receiving end of the Vulcan's inquisitive glance.

“You are the human who is responsible for the destruction of the monastery at P'Jem.”

Yet again Jon couldn't make out if it was a mere statement of fact or if the Vulcan was accusing him of an unspeakable atrocity. There was absolutely no way to get insight into that man's thinking.

“Is that going to be a problem?” he asked, trying to keep his voice as neutral as the Vulcan had managed, and he thought he’d actually pulled it off. The Vulcan surprised him yet again.

“The High Command defiled P'Jem when they used it to spy on Andoria. You exposed their hypocrisy.”

Since that Arev guy appeared to be not too confrontational, at least at the moment anyway, Jon went for broke.

“You seem to know a lot about us. I'm guessing that means you know why we're here.”

For reasons that the captain couldn’t immediately work out, the Vulcan did not answer him, but spoke to Soval instead.

“The wife of your deceased brother is safe at the T'Kareth sanctuary. It is not far. I will guide you both there when the storm has passed.”

The group went silent, but Jon was not comfortable with silence, especially with the raging sand storm outside. But he immediately regretted his thoughts when one of the rocks that blocked the entrance came flying past his head.

“Reseal the entrance,” Arev ordered and Jon joined them in gathering stones. The cave was flooded by bright light and he saw Soval being thrown back violently. I abandoned his stone and rushed to the Vulcan’s side. The old Vulcan was barely conscious. He grabbed one of the full water skins and put it under Soval’s head.

“Listen, the storm is gaining strength,” the other Vulcan said but mere seconds later he too was thrown backwards by a lightning strike. Again Jon rushed over to help.

The Vulcan was shaking, his face bloodied and the eyes were lifeless and empty. He didn’t need to know much about Vulcan biology to see that this man was in his death throes.

“Arev,” he said as if he could shake the Vulcan alive again. Suddenly he felt the dying Vulcan’s shaking hand on the side of his face.

“You must carry it to the Sanctuary,” Arev demanded with a shaking voice and Jon felt the onset of a massive headache.

“Carry what?”

“ _Tuluk t’ V’kau,”_ the Vulcan muttered, but Jon couldn’t ask the meaning. He groaned an a searing pain numbed his senses.

Moments of agony later the world around him when dark.

 


End file.
